


Rise of the Dawn

by The_Inkslinger



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Fantasy Universe, Arranged Marriage, Dragons, M/M, True Love, magical powers, stupidly long
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 14:08:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6988111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Inkslinger/pseuds/The_Inkslinger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shanza is the Serpent God's chosen representative. The Serpent's eternal rival, the Dragon God, chooses Ikeda. Despite both of their troubled pasts, they agree to an arranged marriage. This is only the start of their troubles. Danger and deceit lurks around every corner. Will the trials ahead unite them, or destroy them?</p><p>*This is an edited version. Further chapters are available on FictionPress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rise of the Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> This is an edited version of the same story posted on FictionPress at https://www.fictionpress.com/~theinkslinger.

  
  
Heavy storm clouds roiled above, the air thick with moisture. Dark, angry grey stretched across the sky for as far as the eye could see, threatening to release its load upon the heads of nervous sailors.

Gripping the ship's rail with pale, cold numbed fingers, Shanza steadied himself against an onslaught of cool wind, his eyes closed in pleasure as ocean spray hit his face. Having been used to arid heat, the brisk weather was both welcome and refreshing, if not a bit cold.

Speaking of cold, Shanza glanced over his shoulder and peered at his escort, a small group of nobles and ambassadors from Thanobia. Every attempt he'd made at conversation with them had been cut off swiftly, followed by the advice that he should retire to his cabin, after all, he needed his rest didn't he?

Not only did they ignore him, but he'd overheard their whispering voices when they thought him out of earshot. He was most unfit to be the 'Dragon's' match, an obvious weakling judging by his slim build and utter lack of weaponry. They speculated mockingly that Methron had likely sent them a pretty-enough but dim-witted twit of whom the country wouldn't miss.

Sighing, Shanza let his head drop to his hands, elbows resting against the railing, his loose pants billowing about long legs, clothes plastered to his willowy frame. Shivering slightly as the wind tore through the thin material, he decided that the attire of his homeland, although comfortable, wasn't suitable for the chill of open waters.

He eyed the thick, leather dominated wear of the Thanobian ambassadors and fought down a scowl. Reminding himself that it wasn't their fault their opinion of him was so low, as he had come to understand that the people of Thanobia often scorned his own immediately, just as Methrians feared and mistrusted Thanobia. He hoped such matters would come to an end and he meant to do his part to bring peace.

Curling his fingers around his chill-reddened cheeks, Shanza gazed across a turquoise sea and watched the approaching shore rise from the churning ocean like an armoured warrior marching to battle, growing larger with each step. From snippets of others' conversations he'd managed to piece together that they were making a short stop in Cyprus's port, a mountainous city on the Western border of Thanobia, to collect the Dragon's brother.

Shanza's curiosity gnawed at him. He had been trying to visualize this 'Dragon' ever since he'd heard of the ship's detour. He knew very little about Thanobia's famed golden warrior, who was nearly always referred to as 'Dragon,' and would undoubtedly be able to learn something from his sibling.

Entering the rocky inlet, bursts of mossy green dotted the surroundings hills. The ship slid past bobbing fishing boats, and Shanza watched as they pulled nets swollen with wriggling silver fish onto their decks.

Meanwhile, the ship's crew had whirled to life around him. Men scaled the masts to shorten the sails, the anchor dropped into dark water brimming with trawl, and a small boat lowered. As the boat paddled off, Shanza combed through his windswept hair with his fingers. From the wind, water and humidity, the wave to his hair had blown into full tangled curls of pale blond. He hoped to have some resemblance of presentability by the time the new arrivals stepped aboard.

  
Noticing the nobles had dispersed from their secretive cluster, he suppressed the urge to sigh. Tiresome Lord Chazarle Halaire was making his way towards Shanza.

Pulling on his right hand, which was ensnared in gold strands just below his shoulders, Shanza smiled warmly at the nobleman, aiming to divert him. The Lord looked as ancient and humourless as ever. Speaking just as the elder man opened his mouth, Shanza succeeded in halting the Lords words, which were most likely an ill-disguised order in the form of concern for him to go below deck.

"Your Lordship," Shanza greeted. "May I inquire as to why we've docked?"

Ignoring his question, Chazarle  wheezed, "the cold air must be hard on your lungs, so attuned as they must be to the desert. Perhaps the warmth of your cabin would be beneficial?"

Shanza felt his smile stiffen and he struggled to flex it into a benign expression. "Your concern is touching, Lord Halaire, especially to one such as myself, a stranger in your lands. But the cool breeze is so refreshing, as I imagine all of Thanobia to be." There, that should be enough butter for the old man.

Chazarle blinked at Shanza. "Oh, well, that is true, very true. You must find our lands most preferable to your deserts. Though I insist you go below. We wouldn't want you to catch a chill in this brisk weather."

Dimming his smile to create a look of soft gratification and squashing his irritation that the man thought him so frail, or kept the pretense of such weakness, Shanza relented. "You are most persuasive, perhaps a few more moments then?" An idea surfacing, he added, "The landscape is wondrous here, why I don't think I've ever seen mountains as beautiful as these! It would be a pity to miss them."

"I suppose it would," Chazarle  agreed, though his tone implied the opposite.

Shanza waited for him to shuffle away but he stayed, staring at Shanza from beneath a nest of thin grey hair and bristling brows like spiked caterpillars. He stared so long, in fact, that Shanza finally prompted, "is something the matter, sir?"

His eyes, two stagnant puddles beneath the tangle of his brows, gripped Shanza with a malevolence that sparked a shudder down his spine. His skin pricked with goosebumps and the urge to flinch away nearly overpowered him, but Shanza held firm.

Without another word, Chazarle  turned and stalked away, disappearing into the cluster of Thanobian nobles further down the ship. Rubbing his arms, Shanza felt very cold, very small, and very alone.  
Swearing and shouting drew his attention and Shanza turned just in time to see a grinning young man vault over the side, white teeth stark against his darkly tanned skin, a sheathed sword swinging at his side as he landed.

He was dressed in black armour with gold filigree that appeared to have been in good use recently, as the slashes crossing the beaten surface were visible even from where Shanza stood. Thick, tousled hair bleached near white from sunlight twisted about his head, whipping in the wind's grasp. He had a magnetic aspect and Shanza couldn't help but smile. 

One of the nobles made his way to the newest arrival's side, calling out, "Lord Keftalar!"

So this was the brother. Edging for a better look, Shanza strained to hear their conversation.

"Welcome to the Majestic! I pray your journey was successful?"

"Midraed Chamalor," Keftalar addressed the man, speaking the name as if he spat a sour taste from his mouth. Keftalar's grin had vanished upon spotting the older man, replaced with a grim look like a storm cloud rolling in before a downpour. "See to it that my men are settled and our cargo stored. There is a wedding gift for my brother among my possessions and I would be most displeased if anything should happen to it."

"Of course, I shall see to it immediately!" Chamalor fluttered past Keftalar to organize the warriors climbing aboard.

Pushing his hair out of his face, Shanza fretted. Were all Thanobians so aloof? He watched the blond lord disappear below and tried smoothing his fears with logic. In his few days with the man, Shanza had found Chamalor to be an arrogant, inflated old scab and perhaps Lord Keftalar had valid reason for his dislike. There was no sense in thinking this incident represented Keftalar's entire personality, or that of his brother.

Though if it did, that boded very ill for Shanza. Sighing, Shanza tried to distract himself by studying the foreign landscape and its incredible swaths of green forest spreading like an endless carpet into the horizon, but it had lost some of its charm.

The Majestic swept from Cyprus's harbour and Shanza soon found his hair to be tangled even worse, caught in the gusting breeze and no longer protected by the inlet's shelter. He should have plaited it like the sailors. His bigger problem, however, was that his clothes offered no protection whatsoever from the cold and, even wearing his thickest shirt he had frozen through. But he didn't want to return below deck as he had no doubt he'd be stuck in that dank place again with Chazarle and the other lords as his 'well-meaning' jailers. 

Brisk booted footsteps alerted him and, turning around, he came nearly nose to nose with a grinning Lord Keftalar. He had a wide, guileless smile, the same one Shanza had witnessed when he boarded the ship, and it did much to dispel his unease.

"Hello," Keftalar greeted. His eyes, this close to Shanza's own, were an extraordinary vibrant blue. "You must be Shanza Shilari."

Shanza blinked. He was surprised both that Keftalar had guessed his identity, and at the discovery that that Keftalar stood a good five inches shorter than himself.

"I am. How did you know?"

"Everyone else is either a pock-marketed sailor or a crotchety Thanobian."

"And you are…?" Shanza had worked out his identity too, but not a full name.

Folding his cloak over one arm, Keftalar sketched a bow. "Kaezik Keftalar, son of Hakida Keftalar Duke of Argus, at your service. Although I am better known as brother to the remarkable," he paused, lifting his eyebrows for emphasis, "Ikeda Keftalar."

Shanza understood the dramatics at once and smiled. "Remarkable? Ah, he must be hard to live up to."

  
"Impossible."

Hoping he wouldn't overstep, Shanza said, "if we're to become brothers, I hope you'll call me by my given name."

"Only if you'd be so kind as to return the favor."

"Of course."

 "I don't envy you the journey here. It's a wearisome group you travel with, indeed," Kaezik said.

"Oh?" Shanza wondered.

Smirking, Kaezik explained, "my father must have sent the most discourteous, contemptuous bunch he could find. I admit I've had some form of feud or grudge against the lot of them. Well, those that I've glimpsed so far. I hate to think who else might be aboard." Kaezik paused in reflective horror.

Shanza wondered at the history between Kaezik and the boorish men that had accompanied him on the ship's journey. He wasn't sure if he should ask. He rubbed at his frigid arms instead, trying to encourage warmth back into them.

Unfurling his cloak, Kaezik pulled it free of his arm and gave the thick cloth a hard shake before stepping closer to Shanza. Reaching around him he drew it over Shanza's shoulders and fastened the gold clasp. Shanza had been too startled even to move and knew he must be red to his hairline. But he was thankful for the consideration and the weight of the cloak around him. 

"You were just about blue from the cold," Kaezik said with a shake of his head.

Catching the intricate gold embroidered edge between his thumb and forefinger, Shanza burrowed into the soft wool. It was so luxurious. He had never owned so fine a cloak and he began to worry he might appear shabby when he finally met Kaezik's 'remarkable' brother.

"Thank you," Shanza murmured. "It's much appreciated. I'm not used to this climate, I'm afraid."

Kaezik leaned against the ship's rail, apparently without any worry that if he tipped over the armour he still wore would carry him straight to the seabed. "Once we're on the mainland it warms right up. Although it won't be anywhere near the heat of Methron."

“Do you mind if I ask— you said your father chose the lords to travel on this ship. Why them?”

Waving a lazy hand to show he had no reservations about answering, Kaezik said, “You have to understand, my brother is the pride of Thanobia. He’s a legend. This, of course, makes some people jealous. Trouble is, he’s a difficult target to hit, and it’s politically dangerous to strike at him directly. Those closer to him are easier marks.”

With a shark’s smile, a slash of white teeth in his tan face, Kaezik said, “I was the focus of a batch of bad gossip, orchestrated mainly by the men on this boat. And it’s one thing to have others whisper that you're a bastard son of a whore behind your back, and it's quite a different matter if they try and prove it."

Shanza bit his lip so he wouldn’t gawk, but he knew his eyes had grown wide enough to give him away. He wasn’t sure how to respond so he stalled. “I’m terribly sorry. They seem a nasty bunch.” Digesting what Kaezik had told him, Shanza frowned. “But that doesn’t explain why they’re on this ship.” Unless the ship was in danger? Did the Duke, Kaezik’s father, intend that the ship should never make it’s destination, so he could rid himself and his family of a number of problems, including Shanza? Although, Kaezik’s presence complicated that plot.

Kaezik must have read Shanza’s face in his expression because he laughed and said, “It’s a test, of course. You’ll see. Now shall we go below? There are some people I'd like you to meet."

  
  
Seated at a bench bolted into the wall, Shanza watched from his the corner of the dark mess as two of Kaezik's cohorts argued over whether or not the Dragon, the renown Ikeda Keftalar, was a frozen block of ice or a man as frigid as the King's withered old great aunt. Half-amused and half-worried, Shanza fidgeted with the fraying hem of his shirt while he listened to the two of them.

“No. Listen. I'm telling you, at least the old woman's got a heart, cause he sure hasn't. He's just got a hunk of ice lodged in his chest where his heart should be-"

"Don't listen to him, he's an ass.” The one woman in the group, Miyaz, had taken pity on Shanza and was translating the conversation for him.

"That's nonsense! He's related to the King, so he's got it in 'em to be just as nasty as the old witch!"

"He's not really that bad, is he?" Shanza asked.

“Well, he is a bit of icicle,” Miyaz said.

"A bit, indeed," snorted Kazethe, another one of Kaezik’s soldiers. He had one elbow on the table and his lean frame curved like a bow, framed by a loose auburn braid that roped over his shoulder. His twin brother Kinfe was still arguing with Zan in the background.

Miyaz shot Kazethe a dirty look and his chair rattled, indicating that she must have kicked him under the table. “It’s not that he's heartless, it's just that he’s rude. I mean, what’s the right word for it? A cold fish?” She laughed at herself, not being a model of proper etiquette herself. Kazethe made a fish face at her and his chair rocked again, almost tipping over.

Shanza was rather embarrassed about the whole topic. He hadn’t wanted to bring it up, but in the end he couldn’t resist. He knew nothing about this Ikeda Keftalar and he wasn't sure if they were teasing him or offering honest opinions, and now that Kaezik had left to talk with the group's leader, he hadn't the faintest idea what to believe.

Of course the warriors were all nice enough, as Kaezik had promised, and had welcomed him warmly after they'd been introduced. But once Kaezik had been called away, Miyaz had pounced on the opportunity, stating with a spark in her eyes that he must be curious about Ikeda. And that had started the entire banter over the man's personality.

"Why is he called the Dragon?" Shanza finally mustered the nerve to ask. It had been bothering him for some time and he hoped the warriors knew the genuine answer.

All of the table’s occupants gaped at him. Evan Zan and Kinfe abandoned their argument to join in, the soldiers’ faces a row of open mouths like a school of stunned guppies. They they all spoke over each other.

“You don’t know?”

“I thought even in that desert they’d have heard of it.”

“I can’t believe no one’s said anything.”

At last Miyaz raised both hands to hush them, the small bells looped through her belts jingling as she moved. "I'll explain. Oh, but where to start? Hmm, all right…. just a few years short of a decade ago, when Ikeda was oh, only fifteen was it? Anyway, the point is, he was young. He was training with the legendary Swordmaster Akimi Zuiron up in the Mikad Mountains. That’s a holy place for us, it’s very remote. Then Issarye, the black beast dragon attacked them. The two of them had no choice but to fight against this fire-breathing terror, because I mean, seriously, can you imagine trying to outrun a dragon? Issarye kills

Master Zuiron, then turns its full attention on young Ikeda who although seriously wounded, says the monster.”

"He really killed a dragon?" Shanza whispered in disbelief. Surely they were joking. Dragons were so rarely seen, and even less often defeated. It was unheard of, especially for a mere boy to not only survive but emerge victorious.

“He did. That’s where the name comes from.”

Shanza’s seat mates settled in, satisfied at his reaction to the greatness of their legendary warrior. They drank in silence then, Shanza sipping at the yeasty brew, trying to disguise how it made his eyes water. Across from him, Kazethe fingered one of the many small daggers slung across his chest.

He noticed Shanza’s inspection and conspired, “how many knives do you think I could stuff into that rat before he even realizes he's under attack?" With a jerk of his head, Kazethe indicated Tarik Gruhaniv, a Thanobian lord Shanza had determined was the leader of the pack of old ambassadors.

"About half a dozen," Miyaz said and received an affronted look in response.  She continued after a pause, “strategically placed.”

The thump of metal into wood rant out as Kazethe left one of his glimmering knives embedded in the table top. “It’s tempting but I suppose we'll have to save our fun for another day."

“A time for everything,” Kinfe agreed. "Besides, we wouldn't want to sully the wedding with a murder, now would we?" Shanza was in the middle of wondering if the warriors were always so murderous when Kinfe leaned in from across the table.

"I don't know if Kaezik's said anything to you about that lot,” he jerked his thumb at Gruhaniv, "but they were involved in some real rotten business a few years ago, and it was all about him."

"He mentioned it a little..”

“Those bastards stirred up rumours about him, spread information that was no right of theirs to know and flung it as far  as they could." Scowling, Kazethe's gaze swept from their warm circle to pin a cluster of nobles sitting in the opposite corner.

"You see," Miyaz said, "Ikeda and Kaezik don't share the same mother, they're really only half brothers. Ikeda's mother is a Princess from Enihyre. And Kaezik, well, Kaezik's mother was a Cathadian Pirate." At this even Miyaz blushed, knowing the implications. Shanza sat straight in his seat, both hands gripping his heavy silver mug. The Cathadian Pirates were well known and widely feared. Merchants, warships, fisher boats, they all fell prey to the shark-like pirates. Ruthless and without fear they lurked in dark waters and, covered by mist and storm, they attacked without mercy. Countless kingdoms had sent out their fastest, strongest ships in vain attempts to destroy the legions of thieving scoundrels, but the outcome was always failure, their own vessels smashed to pieces as payment.

Shanza imagined Kaezik as a vicious pirate, plucking gold coins from a flustered, indignant Chazarle, and had to slip a hand over his mouth.

“They say it’s a loveless marriage,” Zan remarked. “Between the Princess and the Duke. That’s no surprise, though, is it? Those arranged marriages—”

Shanza burbled his drink and whatever Zan would have said next disappeared into a pained squawk.  

“Shut up you idiot,” Miyaz hissed.

“What?” Zan protested. Then he seemed to remember Shanza and he flushed as red as his hair. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean— that is, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Ignore him. He’s a fool.” Miyaz patted Shanza’s arm. “Anyway, Duke Keftalar and the pirate queen, Kaezra, had a legendary affair. But she was killed in a raid several days after Kaezik was born. The other pirates sent baby Kaezik to the Duke, who to his credit took him in and has raised him as if he were a legitimate son. Seeing as Kaezik was so young it only took a little bit of covering up. All Hakida really had to do was convince his wife to go along with it. Kaezik didn’t even know until the rumours started. That was ugly.”

“They told anyone that would listen that Kaezik would turn out just like his mother, a murderous thief and a tramp.”  Kazethe had gone back to stroking his daggers.

"It was huge news for a while. There was even a push to cut him from the family, 'send him back where he belonged.'"

"But his father and Ikeda stood with Kaezik. Ikeda may be cold, but he’s been a loyal brother.”

"So it's been resolved?" Shanza asked, hoping the Keftalars weren't still plagued by such scheming.

"Oh, yes. Ikeda pressed to have Lady Amenra exiled. She was the worst of them. Then he threatened to gut the next person who said anything more about his brother and it all got very quiet after that.”

"He's no pirate," Kinfe declared and the rest of them nodded their agreement.

"Who's a pirate?" Kaezik's curious voice interrupted. Slung lazily across Zan's shoulder, he grinned at the group of soldiers as they fumbled for an excuse. Bringing Zan's mug to his lips, he sipped at the bitter drink and watched them with sparkling eyes.

"Well, uh, that big fellow we met just last week, you know, the one with all the rings-”

"That beauty at the markets, the woman with the real red hair, and-" Kinfe and Zan ogled each other and fell silent, realizing they had just ruined any explanation.

Miyaz tried to save them. “You know, it sure is late! High time for us to be getting off to the sleeping quarters!" Clasping Shanza's slack hand, she shook it. "It was great talking with you! We'll chat more tomorrow, have a nice night!"

The rest echoed that sentiment and then the table was suddenly emptied, a wooden chair still wobbling from the quick departures. Kaezik steadied the chair and seated himself. “I guess that answers my question.”

Shanza offered a watery smile. Those rascals had dropped this awkwardness straight in his lap.

"So, have you learned my entire life history yet?"

Realizing Kaezik seemed to be treating the whole thing with an amused fondness and not anger, Shanza relaxed. “Nearly.”

“They mean well. We’ve fought together for a while now. You know how it is.” Kaezik paused then, likely worried Shanza may not actually know how a warrior band treated each other. Shanza knew no one would ever mistake him for a trained fighter.

"If you're worried about offending me, don't be." Shanza was slim and pale. He wore his golden hair long and he favoured loose flowing tunics. His face had a feminine smoothness and he had in fact been mistaken for a woman on many occasions. Even his hands were fine-boned and slender, like the rest of his build. He had enough flaws that fretting over his appearance had never been a priority.

"My brother's luck is better then he knows. Why he could have gotten hitched to a middle-aged, war-hardened fighter with a bald head and a round belly."

Shanza laughed along with Kaezik. When they faded into silence Shanza thumbed at a knot in the plank of the table and forced himself to ask,  “do you know… is your brother disappointed I’m not a woman?”

Kaezik shrugged. “If he is, he’s kept his peace about it. He says he has no preference.”

Nodding, Shanza chewed on that. He’d thought learning more would sooth his fears but he found himself more anxious and conflicted than ever.

Across from him, Kaezik stretched and yawned. "It is late. I'm not sure about you, but I for one have had a tiring day."

Shanza followed him out into the narrow corridor, remembering to duck under the doorway, lest he bruise his forehead. Securing a swinging lantern as he passed it, Shanza saw Kaezik's grinning face illuminated in the faint glow of candlelight and he was once more amazed by Kaezik’s remarkable teeth. He nearly asked if his elder brother shared the same trait.

He thought of his own younger brothers. He scarcely knew them yet they seemed sullen and immature. Perhaps that was unfair, as he had only met them a a handful of times. Maybe they were just mimicking his parents’ distaste for him. Shanza sighed. One of his brothers was a similar age to Kaezik and he was ashamed to admit he already liked the blond boy better.

"You must be tired," Kaezik said. “You’ve got a glazed look.”  

Shanza was thankful for the distraction from his dark thoughts.” I don't see why I should be tired, I haven't done anything strenuous in days."

“I’ll see what I can do about that,” Kaezik promised. “Excitement tends to follow we Keftalars around.”

They had arrived at Kaezik’s cabin. He nudged the door open, one foot wedged inside. With a swift bow and a smile, he said, “good evening, Shanza. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. It was a true pleasure meeting you. If there is anything at all I can do to help in anyway, you have only to ask."

Dropping the serious tone and raising his eyebrows, he added, “and I expect to learn much about you in the next few days. It’s only fair." With those parting words, Kaezik slipped into the room beyond, the door swinging quietly shut behind him.

Left in the gently rocking hallway, Shanza shuffled his way from one spot of swinging light to another until he stumbled on the steps leading upwards. As his head rose above the protection of the deck, night air caressed him in a cool wave.

Sighing in contentment, Shanza raised his chin against the gusty winds, loving the feel of being bathed in flowing currents. He could smell the tangy salt water and taste it on his lips. Moving to the ship's rail, his robes twisting around his long legs, he looked out over the side, the water's black surface smooth glimmering with moonlight, ripples of white on slate.

This was his favourite time of all the hours he'd been traveling. He escaped each night up onto the deck to watch calm waters lap at the ship's planks. If he was lucky great black whales would skim by, their dorsal fins cutting through the still surface, rising out of the deep beyond. Entire pods would glide past him, crooning to each other in the dark, singing in their strange and forlorn language.  

Perched on the tips of his toes and leaning over the railing, the curtain of his hair obscuring his vision as it whipped about in the breeze, Shanza scanned the expansive sea for movement.

The low noise of a cleared throat boomed out and Shanza nearly pitched himself off of the ship in fright. Whirling so fast he almost fell again, Shanza had to brace himself against the wood at his back as he pulled his hair out of its tangle over his eyes and mouth. His other hand was clenched over his heart in the universal expression of alarm.

The broad figure of a man stood five feet from him, cloaked both by the night’s shadows and a swath of black cloth. Silver armour glinted beneath the cover of the great mantle and a deep hood obscured the man’s face. Shanza waited for him to speak, his heart thudding in his breast beneath his palm, but the silence stretched and thickened. The ship creaked and the wind whispered over the water and still the man said nothing.

“Are you Captain Thea?” Shanza asked when he could no longer bear the silence. Kaezik had told him about the captain he and the other warriors followed and though he had boarded the ship that afternoon, Shanza had not yet met him.

“Yes. You must be Shanza Shilari, sent by Methron to marry, to devote your life and love to a man you have never met, all for the sake of a peace pact. Very generous of you.”

The harsh words and tone surprised Shanza almost as much as the man’s sudden appearance. Steeling himself, Shanza straightened and eyed the shadowed figure. He forced a confidence he wasn’t sure he felt and said, "I was chosen by the Gods themselves for this union, as was Ikeda Keftalar. I believe in it. If I can bring peace with this small sacrifice, I am glad to do it.”

“So honourable and selfless, giving yourself to your country so they can barter you away.” The voice rang with condescension, scorning Shanza's honesty. “And what of the power and riches awaiting you? You have only to agree to wed Thanobia's hero and then you’ll be free to reign as you please. The Dragon may get in your way initially, but it should be easy enough for one of your kind to control him.”

A tendril of ice slid down Shanza’s spine. “My kind?”

“I know what you are, niekh.”

The chill Shanza had felt before spread to an all-consuming numbness. His entire body was cold, his face drained of all colour. This man knew. Niekh was an insult, a filthy word condemning those that had the Gift. He'd heard it often enough, hissed in whispers behind his back. But Zethus wasn't done, he'd sensed Shanza's weakness and sought to tear him apart.

"Yes, I know of your curse. You may seem frail and helpless to all the world but I know you have the ability to tear a man apart with a thought. A power that cannot be defended by mortal men, a power that reduces entire armies to nothing but blood filled fields. You and your kind are monsters, the only thing you love is power and you will do anything to get it. You have the Gift."

Anger blazed in Shanza’s frozen mind and his blood surged to life, pounding through his veins like liquid fire, setting dead nerves ablaze. His fingers snapped up to embed their nails in the soft skin of his palms as he clenched his hands.

"It's no secret," Shanza said, defiant. "But I’m not what you think.” He felt blood trickling between his fingers, warm and thick, but couldn't relax. It was the only outlet of anger he would allow himself.

"No?" Zethus' voice was surprisingly soft and Shanza wondered what the man would throw at him next. "I'm curious why, when you have such power, you haven’t incinerated me on the spot. Here I stand, insulting you with all my might and creativity and you listen without retaliation."

Shanza's clasped fists loosened in his in confusion. “I’m as dangerous as a sword’s sheath.” Lifting his hands, his deep sleeves fell to collect at his elbows, revealing bare arms. He wasn’t wearing the evira, the often elaborate and always gem-studded gloves all Gifted wore to release their power. Without them his power was locked within his body.

“How do I know you don’t wear them because you’re trying to hide that you have the Gift?”

"If I was that paranoid, then I would be certain to wear my weapons but hidden."

Zethus seemed to mull this over for a moment. He was silent again but it had a less ominous feel. The shadows cloaking him shifted and he stepped closer, into the wan moonlight. He was tall with a solid frame. The night breeze ruffled his short black hair and his beard was peppered with grey. His dark eyes reflected the cool waters and gave nothing away, as if they were but hard stone.

Zethus stalked closer and Shanza stiffened in response, feeling like a gazelle watched by a sated lion, who although is not in immediate danger knows to fear. This man was bigger, stronger and more armed than himself. His very stature demanded attention and reeked of command.

"That's very brave of you, to go without a weapon," Zethus said in a near drawl, his sword clinking against his boots as he drew nearer. Was the man trying to intimidate him? Shanza straightened to counter the unease he felt and thrust his chin high.

"I have no need of a weapon here."

"Really, you think so? What if you’re attacked?"

Shanza's gaze narrowed and Zethus stopped a mere breath from him. "The only attack I have to fear would be from this ship. And I do not fear that at all." Shanza himself was tall, but Zethus was taller and considerably broader, and so he seemed to loom over him. Shanza continued, willing his voice not to waver, “I am a lone Methrian, high in status, travelling to your country of Thanobia to secure peace. If I’m killed it will be war.”

The long strands of Shanza’s hair whipped against the scratched armour of Zethus’ chest plate as Zethus considered him without saying anything.

"This is true," Zethus agreed at last. "You had best not come to any harm then.”

Shanza blinked in surprise. All the hostility had dropped from Zethus’ voice. He spoke only with weariness when he next said, “you truly only wish for peace? You don’t have some wicked scheme to wrest control over the East?"

"I don't have a… wicked scheme. All I want is an end to the wars. That’s the truth.”

Zethus glowered at Shanza, baleful, and a sudden thought stuck him. Shanza wondered, “have you been trying to test me?" The man truly didn't seem like a brute. His display of anger and accusations could easily have been an act, and in recollection, it seemed probable.

Zethus’ mouth lifted with a smile like a crack in ice. “You’ve found me out.”

He stepped back and gave Shanza a curiously fatherly look of chagrin. No longer shrouded in darkness, there were lines of care etched into his face. “I may owe you an apology.”

“I would appreciate an explanation.”

“The Keftalar sons are dear to me. I needed to know your motivations and the best way I could think to find them was to  provoke you into showing your true nature. I’m shamed to admit much of my distrust came when I discovered you held the Gift. As a soldier my experiences with the Gifted have been the stuff of nightmares, and so I came to my own conclusions. It was unfair of me.”

Shanza was heartened by Zethus’ confession, yet saddened all the same, as he knew many labeled the Gift as monsters. The harsh truth was that they were often right. Shanza knew he had earned that description himself and he strove ever to atone for it.

"I suppose I should have listened to Kaezik. He’s taken with you, trusted you the moment he set eyes on you, the brat.”

They shared a tentative smile then, which was interrupted when Shanza shivered hard enough his teeth nearly rattled out of his mouth. The rush of adrenaline that had since tapered off had left him tired and chilled and there was no sun to warm his face. He still had Kaezik’s cloak and he tucked it close around himself.

"Cold, are you? And rightly so. Come now, we'll go below and talk."

"I'm all right, really," Shanza assured, but he didn’t argue when Zethus put a hand on his back and guided him to the stairs.  
It certainly was a strange transition. Minutes before this man had verbally assaulted him and now he was chiding him over his well being. Halfway down the steps, where candlelight finally reached them, Zethus glanced back to speak when he spotted one of Shanza's hands.

"Oh- what's this?" Without waiting for a reply he caught both of Shanza's hands and lifted them with surprising gentleness into the lantern's glow.

Turning them palm up, he clucked his tongue and lifted his head to match eyes with Shanza, who blushed in response. The press of his nails had left crescents of blood in his palms.

Releasing him with a wink and gesturing him for follow, Zethus led Shanza into the mess. Once Shanza had taken a seat Zethus disappeared behind a side door. Shanza perched on the edge of his chair, surveying the empty space.

All but one of the candles had extinguished and the single flame cast twisting shapes across the walls. Occasional sounds of the ship reverberated around him but over the past week he had grown used to the creaks and groans. At first the noises had made him nervous as he'd worried that the ship would fall apart at the seams. Now he found it comforting, a break in the silence.

Silence. He hated it. It made him feel desolate and small. When he had too much time to think, he thought of things better left alone. The walls begin to creep in, the air thickens and the dark suffocates. Gods but he hated being alone.

A particularity loud creek from the wooden boards overhead interrupted his reverie and Shanza jerked in bewilderment, nearly tumbling off of his chair as he narrowly missed knocking the candle off the table. Rubbing his forehead in embarrassment, Shanza heard Zethus's returning footsteps and sighed in relief. He may not have been a chatterbox himself, but he liked to listen to others talk, and he enjoyed company.

"Still awake I see. Well good, I'm glad you haven't bled to death yet.” Zethus bustled into the room, a basin of slopping water under his arm. He dropped it onto the table, causing more water to slosh around the sides and spill out.

"You can wash up with that, don't want to get an infection now do you? Besides, blood stains like a bugger, so you'd best clean up now and not get it all over yourself." Relaxing into the seat across from Shanza, Zethus plopped a mottled tin cup in front of himself and handed Shanza a cloth.

"Oh, thank you," Shanza murmured, placing the small towel beside the bowl.

Tucking his sleeves back, he dipped his hands into the tepid water while Zethus asked, “what do you really think about the marriage?"

Stopping his careful ministrations to look up, Shanza's brow creased in confusion. "I thought I already said… I think it's a good idea-”

"No, I mean, how do you feel about the marriage, truthfully?"

Shanza considered the question and sat back in his chair, letting his wrists rest on the bowl’s rim. The only noise was the soft plunking droplets falling from his fingertips.

"How do I feel…" He repeated softly. To be frank, strangely enough no one had asked him this question before and his emotions were a muddle. He knew it was his duty to do as his country wished and that the union was vital for peace. But how did he really feel about it?

“I’m… nervous. And frightened. Nothing will ever be the same.” He was terrified but it was so difficult to admit to fear. "It's not just the marriage, although in that regard the thing I most worry about is what Lord Keftalar is like."

Zethus listened and a fatherly look came over his features. "Shanza, you have got to call him Ikeda, you're going to marry the man.”

His cheeks colouring, Shanza nodded. “I will. But I don't know him at all and I worry— what will he be like? And I fear he won't like me."

"Do you think he doesn't worry about that same question?" Zethus said. “What if you don't like him?"

Shanza fiddled and floundered. "That wouldn't matter, I'd just-"

"What, put your feelings aside?"

Shanza slumped. He rubbed what remained of the stains from his palms, revealing small half moon impressions in his skin. When he glanced up he was surprised by the sympathy in the captain's face.

"Fine, I'll help you out," Zethus said. “I’ll tell you about Ikeda and I’ll be brutally honest with you, all right? This means you won't get a rude surprise later, which is only fair."

Shanza choked. What was that supposed to mean? Had the other soldiers exaggerations actually been fact?

"Let's see, appearance wise he- good Gods, it didn't even occur to me! I forgot to ask your thoughts on wedding a man. I know it's accepted in Thanobia and other civilized places, but Methron hasn't always been as, well… You're fine with the fact that you won't be able to have children, and- how to word this?" Zethus paused, face scrunching, but Shanza saved him the trouble.

"Ah, no, I don't mind. I've never really been, er, romantically involved before, anyway. Besides, my guardians always taught me to love the person, not the appearance."

"Good people then, they're right."

Shanza smiled faintly but said nothing more. He wanted to hear the apparently horrifying truths about Ikeda Keftalar, his future husband. Husband. Shanza turned the word over in his mind. What a strange path his life had taken.

“He’s a big man, very strong, having to kill dragons and all," Zethus snorted. “What else- oh, he’s a blond like you, but darker with curls. If I was one of his female fans I'd know what to say, they're always swooning over his stormy eyes and other nonsense.  You really should see Kaezik imitate them, it's quite amusing. But where was I? Oh yes, making you a mental picture."

Taking a swig out of his mug, then clunking it down he went on, "He's very handsome, very masculine, though probably not quite your equal in looks, but the closest Thanobia has to offer." Shanza's eyes nearly rolled out of his head he snapped them completely open so fast, Zethus's flippant compliment had startled him so much. What a compliment! He couldn't be serious." What are you looking like that for?" Zethus demanded.

“Why— you just said— you can't be serious,” Shanza sputtered. His faced burned with the heat of the sun.

“Son, I was serious. Haven't you had a compliment before? Or was that a cultural blunder? In any case you’ll need less modesty for what awaits you. But back to Ikeda. Now this is what's really important. Some call him the ice prince and that’s accurate. He’s cold. He may seem superior and disinterested, but you have to work through that. I don't know why he does it, but he comes off too proud. He’s quiet and can be ruthless at times. Also, he refuses to acknowledge anyone who shows feelings towards him. There have been many unhappy women who sought his attention and were ignored."

Shanza twisted the cloth, subconsciously mirroring the knot his stomach had just worked itself into. Zethus raised a finger. “However, I can personally attest that he does indeed have a heart buried under all that.

It just needs some nurturing.”

Shanza glanced downwards. Zethus was saying that Ikeda was hard and aloof. But that here was hope and Ikeda just needed some warming up. "You're going to need patience and understanding, lots of it. Fortunately, that doesn't appear to be a problem."

Shanza sighed. "That wasn't very encouraging, but I appreciate it."

“At the very least you'll be prepared now."

"Yes. I can plan how to swoon him in the time I have until we reach Arcanus."

Zethus chuckled. “Don’t ask me for help. This is as far as my relationship advise goes. And I see you're all cleaned up, so lets see your hands.”

"Oh, they're just scratches. It's really my fault, anyway."

Zethus arched a bushy eyebrow at him and rather than argue Shanza placed his palms in the middle of the table. "You've done quite a number on yourself. What are your nails, talons?" Zethus said. “Well it’s obvious you're not a swordsman."

“That’s your only indication?” Shanza said dryly.

It was a relief to be able to relax, now that Zethus had told him about Ikeda. He'd been plagued with nightmares and wild speculations over what the Thanobian warrior would be like and what he should expect. Of course, he now had the unfortunate opportunity to mull over the fact that very soon, if all went well, he would be more powerful than a king. There was also the issue of 'all that had to go well,' too, to take into consideration. But it was best to think about these things later, as he was starting to tense up again.

Across from him Zethus yawned. “It’s plenty late and I suppose we need all the rest we can get." Rising to his feet, he cleared the table and strode towards the door. Shanza blew the candle out in a puff of twirling grey smoke. He was immediately pitched into complete darkness.

"Zethus?" He called out, his eyes struggling to adjust.

The tall man answered with mirth in his tone, “over here, Shanza."

Following the deep voice, Shanza let out a soft 'oof' as he tried to navigate around a chair he couldn't see. Failing to skirt the furniture, his knee connected with the firm wood. He could hear Zethus laughing in the blackness.

"I suppose this wasn't the best of plans— oh,” he gasped, narrowly missing a supporting beam. Arms straight out, his hands feeling in the darkness in front of him, Shanza made his way towards the laughter.

When his fingertips scraped armour he said with a laugh at himself, “ah hah, there you are. Where's the door?"

“Here.” Light spilled in from the hallway's lanterns. "Suppose I could have done that before. Although, that way was more fun. "

"Fun for you. You aren't going to have a bruised knee."

They slipped into the corridor. It was narrow going with only one person and having a bulky warrior squashed in beside Shanza made moving a near impossible feat.

"You know, that cloak looks awfully familiar," Zethus said.

"It should. Kaezik was kind enough to lend it to me.” Blushing, Shanza added, "I forgot to return it and he may be asleep by now."

"What a charmer. You ought to put a curse on it."

Shanza smiled drowsily in response. He was ready for sleep. "I think I'll take it upon myself to walk you to your room, acting as your guard in the off chance that someone else decides to attack you tonight. You never know who might've slipped aboard while the ship was docked."

"I don't know. It seems that the people aboard the ship are more to fear."

"You aren't mistaken there," Zethus muttered. “Wait here a moment and I'll get rid of this junk." Entering the ship's kitchen he disappeared for a scant second before emerging empty handed. "Even the cook has gone to bed. I'll bet there's only the watchmen above deck and ourselves awake at this hour.”

"That's because it's ungodly to be up so late— early,” Shanza corrected himself, his wits slowing down as his mind fogged over.

"Don't fall over on me. We'd best hurry and get you to bed."

That sounded very enticing indeed. Luckily, the Majestic's interior was a modest size and they were soon able to meander their way to Shanza's door.

"Here we are at last. I guess you're safe for tonight, no one leapt out to attack you with a big warrior like me around.” Zethus moved to grasp the handle.

"I'm curious. Where would this attacker leap out from? There's no room anywhere.”

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Zethus answered as he pushed the door open.


End file.
